Beautifully Darker Than Light
by KissxTemptationx
Summary: A young woman capable of manipulating the earth's elements is set on fulfilling her earthbound destiny. But upon an execution accusing her of witchcraft, she is captured by a man of darkest darkness. DraculaxOC
1. The Autumn Breeze

**This is a chapter edit from the first time I posted this story. I felt that I wasn't receiving enough readers because of the poorly written beginning chapters. This drove me to fill in spaces and rewrite confusing spaces, which I will be doing with the other chapters excluding the most recent one. This chapter still leaves me confused at certain parts, but that's a chance I will have to take. New Readers: I only hope you enjoy this as you delve further into the story. I apologize for my weak writing in the beginning; this continues to leave me at no excuse. Read and review, thank you.**

**_"...from now till kingdom come, the only thing you can count on in your existence is never understanding why."_ -The Prophecy**

"Mommy? When will you tell me the story?" She paused to correct herself. "The real one?" The child settled into her down-feathered bed, glistening eyes of sapphire holding a devious but innocent youth inside despite her slow-progressing age.

Her mother laughed an enchanting, magical laugh. _Like wind chimes_, the daughter thought—_a __music box_. But the sound of the music box was not emitting from her mother's voice, it truly was a music box. The picturesque woman of eternal age sitting beside her flipped it open without a thought and sat upon the bed, listening. The melody fanned out into a soft harmonic rhythmsad, but heart-wrenchingly consuming to human ears. This child stared as her mother reached out to cup her cheek with an unexplainable smile. The golden flame smoldering inside the spirit of her eyes made the girl's face brighten.

_Finally she will tell me._

"Clever one, aren't you? How did you know I lied?"

"Because people don't fall in love and live happily ever after. Fairytales are dark and never-ending. Happily ever after follows 'till death do us part.' Daddy told me." She proudly raised her chin as high as her growing ego expanded, trying to prove her intellect in one sentence.

"Your father is right. I am terribly surprised he never took the time to tell you this tale himself." Her drawn out stillness following the statement matched what her daughter had done earlier: correct herself. "No. It is not like him to do so." For another lengthened minute they sat in a peaceful recess of time, listening to the music box's lullaby. The child was on the brink of slumber if it weren't for her mother's shift in weight on the bed.

"We danced to that," she stated silently. "Your father and I. Such a long time ago." It came out in a hushed whisper—the last statement.

"Was it romantic?"

Her mother laughed again. "It was. But that will be discussed for another time. Shall I tell you this _spectacular_ story you've been itching for such a long time to hear?" Her daughter nodded almost hurriedly, egging her on to move forward with the tale. "Alright. Alright. Here we go." Her petite figure settled on the bed, smooth and youthful fingers smoothing back the wrinkles in her dress. She waved her hand among the candle behind her and it ignited at once. The heart-shaped music box played again.

"This girl was very young, and lost in the power of the gift bestowed upon her. She did not know how to use it even though the ones before her trained her since the mark of her birth on earthen soil. They underestimated the power themselves, not knowing that the elemental, despite being an earth-bound guardian of the heavens, possessed a power overruling the rights of good and evil. As honorable as the gift was, she hated it. She cursed it. No one, not even her parents she was forced away from at the earliest of ages, guided the way through her life's destined path. The light was lost, and darkness remained. Darkness… seemed to be the key to her salvation. _He_ was the key…"

(Early 1890s)

The sweet smell of heated hay filled the atmosphere as the fire contagiously spread in an even circle, engulfing me. Closing my eyes I relished in the vapor, believing that that last smell would be the only comfort I took with me to death.

_It is all a dream, Autumn. A dream that will soon come to pass. _

In my early adult years, I realized I had not yet experienced a full life every person particularly desires nowadays—what with the European diseases and increasing poverty. So, at this point in time after musing over that thought, I was convinced that I'd be one of those who died at a young age. Tonight I was being sentenced to my death. The urging of my demise grew louder, villagers shouting curses at me from all directions. I couldn't help but smile as I opened my eyes to the faces of accusers one more time. Those eyes of mine were capable of scaring the bravest onlookers. At first glance, they would seem as if they were glowing. But, if someone were to come closer to me, my irises looked like an extraction from the surface of the sun itself. _They_ shouldn't be afraid, for it was only the energy of the elements within me. All of it was a part of me that I had to accept one day—even if it meant accepting it by death. From the moment of birth, I have been an elemental. I never knew the purpose of this gift—being a supernatural creature that fit in with several other categories diagnosed as abomination. Though I was trained by my Carpathian ancestors for society's rejections and through the ways of concealing this gift and curse, I hoped I would put them to excellent use one day when the time came.

I believe today was the day their use would be in dire need. The village we lived in had an intense paranoia of anything out of the ordinary during the year of growing up. I respected them for that, of course. Dracula's been hunting in our town for years. But perhaps the paranoia surrounding my being turned to chaos too quickly. Being different was blasphemy. Through my powers, the intense suspicion of the villagers mistook me for practicing witchcraft. Witchcraft in Transylvania is immediately punishable by being burned in the center of town. It was the devil's work, they'd say. A working that can only be cleansed by being sent back to hell.

I pulled on the taut ropes binding my wrists together, staring down the leader of my falsely acclaimed witch hunt: Anna Valerious.

She walked towards me with slow haste, her dark Romanian eyes observing each unique expression morphing my face. My head bowed in respect she should not have deserved.

"You know the reason for your execution?" She questioned. Her voice held no sign of a respect returned. The smoke of the fire entered my lungs unsuspectingly, forcing me to gasp for the air I wasn't receiving. As my coughs subsided, I stared into her face in return without sympathy for her cursed family as she had now cursed mine.

"Of course I do," I grinned. "The reason is you. I am no witch. I worship no devil. I speak no foreign tongue of evil. I was gifted with the elements of the earth, and I regret nothing. So go ahead. _Burn_ me. Cast me off as Satan's earthly puppet. Do you expect me to beg now and agree with you? Beg for my life until you relent and confine me for the rest of my life? _He_ will still be looking for you: the prince of darkness. Killing me will never solve your own family problems. Time is running out." I inhaled, closing my eyes to everyone and turning my face upwards towards the skies. "I can feel it in the winds."

My eyes glowed brighter in the light of the fire as they opened, reflecting off of the chestnut tendrils flowing across my back.


	2. The Prince

**Another chapter edit: some of these chapters are difficult to alter so I have been changing them to the greatest potential I can provide. Looking back, I a more ashamed of my earlier chapters. I only hope I can reach greater lengths with future chapters. Read and review, thanks. :)**

"A pity that lies spill from your lips in such a frank way. I was almost convinced," she noted sarcastically. Her back faced me as she walked down into the crowd of townsfolk, disappearing from my line of sight into the folds of people. The flames continued to devour the twigs and straw as a delightful fuel, reaching enormous heights above my body. Fire licked at my legs like an over-starved dog, singeing the flesh of my calves.

I could not scream.

For, I knew that when screeching penetrated the orange-black sky, the only hope of surviving my death was a final disappearing act. Dracula's hunt began again.

The dark Prince and his three brides soared several hundred feet away in the distance's approach. As my body caved in on me, nearing unconscious exhaustion, the magic burning through my veins made a last attempt of building up every fiber of energy left inside. When the time was right—when the vampires closed in on the townsfolk, my body separated itself from the ropes, sinking through the floor of the earth.

_Disappearing._

I took myself into the woods, and ran.

My mind subconsciously tried to discern my destination, but I had no idea where it would take me. The vampires' monthly feeding on the village took dozens of people, and I couldn't let myself face death a second time. Not again. The burns ached deep inside the muscle of my calves, but not to the bone. My legs freely ran even with the singed flesh pricking me in a feverish pain. I carried myself through the misty forest barefooted. My feet crunched dry leaves and snapped random twigs below me, scraping up my already infected calves and ankles. I choked back a true scream of anguish, compelling my body to sprint faster than impossible could. Fear began to grip on to me tightly like hands on an easily-snapped throat.

A branch several feet behind me snapped and I halted, turning around. The inner elemental within me arose—a small flame lit between my fingers, preparing me for the worst.

"Hello? Who is there?" I attempted to make my voice solid, but the constant dread tapping the back of my mind made it falter to vapor.

"_Hello? Who is there?_" A second voice mocked. The tree branches shook under unknown weight again. Panicked, I backed up and turned around a second time, coming face to face with what I assumed was Aleera: the redhead bride of Dracula. I had never seen them before, not up close, and not in human form. But I heard stories of the terror and lust his brides spread among Romania.

Aleera cackled from my surprise and jumped down in a merciless poise, changing into her human physicality midway. "So _this_ is the little witch who happened upon performing her final act before execution." Bemusing, she circled me, inspecting every inch of my appearance like a hawk. "I admit, you are remarkably striking." She clucked her tongue. "'Tis such a sad way to watch you go."

I sensed her threat a moment before she attacked and threw a punch of fire countering the strength of five men. The dark of the forest left me blinded—the fire being my eyes in a world of darkness—but not strong enough to keep me aware. Aleera had pinned me high against the tree trunk, her teeth I had guessed were inches from my neck. Four more feet landed more than a few steps from Aleera. I struggled underneath her deadly vice in terrifying panic and set my hands aflame once more.

"Let me go, wench!!" I shrieked. _Did it matter what I said? How can I avoid death now?_

My golden eyes glowed in the dark green of the forest, searching for a fast escape.

"_Enough!!__"_ A deep, powerful voice boomed. Drawn out silence surfaced every inch of the forest. Aleera paused at the base of my neck in annoyance. I spotted a pale white hand wrench her off of me, throwing her aside like a rag doll. "And just who are you trying to slaughter at this time? The feast has ended, my love." Interest piqued his majestic tone.

From what I managed to see, the man's eyes swam a beautiful azure blue while he eyed me. His hair welded into the sea of darkness stretching behind me in the background of the forest, and his height was enough to tower over anyone superior to him—if _anyone_ could be superior to a man like this.

"A witch, master," one of the brides quietly replied. Her shadow recoiled as if she prepared herself for a strike. "She was sentenced to execution before we arrived."

"I am most certainly _not_ a witch!" I declared. Dracula caught my hand with his as I tried to strike a bride out of sight, putting out the fire instantaneously with a hiss.

"Apparently so. Then tell me, girl. What are you?"

His scurrilous gaze faltered my fading courage, but I held up. The crunching heavy footsteps drew closer to where I stood. He pressed a long finger underneath my chin and forcefully lifted up my face to his eye-level. The cool ice of his eyes seemed to taunt me in examination of the sun-kissed glow of mine. He chuckled low under his breath, a smirk pulled at his mouth.

"Anyone immersing themselves in the studies and life experiences of the supernatural could unravel your identity. The glow of your eyes distinguishes you from fairy, leaving only one more creature left. The elemental, am I right?" The glow intensified with the widening of my eyes. "I will not kill you-"

"Why not?" Aleera hissed. "She is only human granted with few other abilities. What makes that difference between life and death? We do not house our food!"

"Enough, Aleera!" He roared again.

"It was only a suggestion." A bride went to her defense. "She meant objection toward you."

"Going to her defense doesn't benefit her, Verona. Nor you." His beautifully cruel face looked at me again. "She can prove of excellent use," he whispered. "The _monster_ may be found with her abilities." A slight mix of negative emotions fell through him. "She is coming with us. Her bedroom will lie in your quarters, my brides. No objections."

His cool hand brushed against my sore wrists, and I winced away--from the pain in my leg and from this man who's holding me captive.

"Do not touch me." The ground shook under my feet from the unrelenting anger pouring out of me.

His bone chilling laugh struck me dead.

"My dear, if you want to live more than a minute in my castle, you will have to get used to me touching you."


	3. Sorrow

***sigh* Chapter Edit again. I'll keep myself from writing a long AN. Review at the end if you would like to. Otherwise, thank you for reading :)**

My disgust shone through any trace of fear that existed on my features. Elementals live insane when detained. They are away from nature, as well as each element that makes up who they are. Their spirit deteriorates every day they are denied their freedom—and the moment they are released, their wild disposition wreaks chaos. Like the Count himself acclaimed—elementals are closely associated to the free-spirited fairies. But, unlike those impish fey, they have an earth-bound connection to God. Whereas fairies believe in no God—no afterlife for the immortal.

The _idea_ of being held captive felt like hovering over a pit of fiery promises. The initial horror filling me caused my body to thrash at his firm grip on my chin.

"We're leaving now." Dracula announced smugly. "And you…" He slid his hand to my cheeks, pressing them into my teeth so hard they bled. The coppery taste held no desire of mine, but I sensed the lust building like a surfacing bruise inside him. "No matter how well I house you, you are my _servant_. I need you in well nutrition when I send you out for my plans. Obey me, and you will be treated well. Disobey and, well, I expect your heightened instinct to know_that_ result," he laughed darkly.

Before I had time to breathe, I was lifted off the ground. The Count's demonic form screeched delightfully into the crisp, night air—a sign that he has seized a significant prize. _I_ was the prize. We flew for hours; it seemed, through the clouded mist. The fly would have been exhilarating if I had not known who held me in their claws. The fact that I may be spending the rest of my life in a pre-catatonic state of hell dawned on me. I was strong enough to hide the pain on my face… for now. None of the brides or even Dracula suspected the harm done to my legs.

Through the thick fog engulfing the air, I spotted the Count's castle on the horizon. Its beautiful 16th century architecture was conspicuous with the illuminated glass windows brightening the aged stone. This couldn't possibly be Castle Frankenstein.

With surprising ease as we reached the far end of the castle, he gently placed me on the balcony. "Verona!"

The ebony-haired Italian princess flew into view. No emotion betrayed her face, even when her depthless eyes landed on me. "Yes, my lord?"

"Make…" He looked expectantly at me for a moment.

"Autumn," I leered.

"Help _Autumn_," he pondered over the name with a smile, "feel at home. Show her to her bedchambers." He didn't give her a specific room to use, and it seemed she didn't question him further on the topic. Then he was gone. His other two brides followed him with no more than a glare in my direction. Verona's long fingers pressed into my arm and pulled me into a wide hallway. Her pace was steadfast, and I had trouble keeping speed with her due to my injuries. She sensed the languid limps in my step and stood at a standstill.

"Injured?" She inquired with a quick scan over my body. "You don't look it." The skirts moved against my legs by the breeze blowing in from the windows, lifting momentarily off the ground. Despite the rare concern she showed me, her gasp was prominent. The burns were worse than I thought.

"It's alright." I waved her away. "They will heal."

"I'm surprised you contained a scream at all. Tough." She smirked. "The Count loves and loathes that trait equally." Her black eyes took another look at my calves. "Are you sure they will heal?"

"I'm not exactly all human. I heal faster."

"Very well," she concluded. We continued to walk down the dimly lit hall, though at a slower pace.

"Isn't it a coincidence that on the night of my execution, I am saved by the hands of ones who would enjoy me dead much more than the others?" I mumbled.

"Take a second look… Autumn." Her mouth tasted the unfamiliar word, sounding awkward when she spoke. "Your people kill the supernatural without knowing their nature: good or evil or perhaps in between. In fact, you were under the category of good and they still followed up with your death! You have been outcast like us. I'm afraid you are standing at our level, whether you like it or not." Verona paused at a set of polished oak wood doors. "Here is your room. I suppose the Count will see you when he chooses. You are not to wander off. I may be friendly to you, but I am unsure about what Marishka and Aleera would do to you."

Without another word, she disappeared as well. My hand cautiously gripped the brass handle of the door, and pushed it open. The room was cozy; I guess I'll say that. A roaring fire had been lit off to the right of the spacious room, contained in a black marble fireplace. A king-sized bed adorned with crushed green velvet and silk sheets lay in a corner to my left. A forest green and sunset yellow stained glass window peeked out of the side of the bed. Off to the right of the window was a dresser carved out of the same wood as the door. In front of the fireplace laid a loveseat with an end table at its side.

I stepped into the room not in awe, but in entrapment. As comfortable this room felt to me, it would never feel like home. Not while I knew who I was under the care of. Not while my connection to the outside world lay miles away. My hand brushed against the jutting stone ledge in the window, and I crawled into a seated stance with my knees curled to my chest.

Feeling the claustrophobic, cold atmosphere cave in on me despite the warmth of the fire—and for the first time in a very long time, I began to cry.


	4. Madness In Divinest Sense

**Chapter Edit as well. **

The tears lulled me into a non-disruptive sleep.

My eyes opened hours later to the sound of raindrops splattering on the windowpane in a rhythmic beat. Curious, I lifted up the skirts of my dress and brushed my hand against the newly-formed scars of my burns. As I had suspected, my skin pulled itself together during my sleep and left behind raised bumps where it forcefully split open. A few hiccups escaped me from my previous hourly sobs. I stared through the water-pattered pane at the nothingness seen. The room's bundling warmth sizzled out around me, replaced by a cold draft inching itself toward me across the stone floor. His presence clung to my side like a leech would, draining the built-up strength inside of me.

"Verona said you would come." I spoke quietly.

"I keep my word." He uttered, strangely close behind me. I turned my head to see—to know if this wave of darkness truly was as close as a knife in my back. But when I looked, he stood near the flame-less fireplace, illuminated in late evening moonlight. The sparkling blue gems of his eyes observed my torn dress, the ragged tangles in my hair, my gold eyes swollen from tear shedding, and soon drifted to the unsightly scars on my legs. "I had to see them for myself. Verona seemed as if she was simply lying to defend you. She does that _unusually_ often for her sisters, and yet, you are not one of them." He quirked an eyebrow.

I lifted up the muddy skirts of my commoner dress again, and brushed my hand against the raised flesh of my scars. Dried blood clung to the pink and white wound tightly. The burns may have healed, but the scars had no cure to smooth out its owner's skin.

"Well here is your confirmation." I frowned, waving a hand at the destruction. He approached at an even pace from across the room. "If you may excuse me, I would like to be alone." Ignorant of my request, he continued to walk forward, stopping at a two-step distance away. The swollen appearance of my eyes were the source of his stare.

"You have no right to weep. I spared your life."

He reached out in unsure hesitance. I bit down on my lip and shrunk away from his extending fingertips. Dracula's laugh poisoned whatever remaining warmth in the room. I felt _far_ from comfortable.

"Now you choose not to speak?"

I couldn't. He terrified me. The panic swerved through my veins like a viper curled into a second's attack, tapping into my power. The fireplace sparked to life, and the clasp holding the windows together snapped open. Feral wind and rain blew into the room.

"Contain yourself, pet." His hand stung my face, the slap echoing into the halls.

I tumbled forward without balance; my head pounding my heart's doubled pulse. I forbade my mouth to release a scream no matter what pain resulted. The fire blew out, and the windows slammed shut. Hot, salty tears ran down to the corners of my lips.

_How dare he!_

"Know your place, Autumn." His face twisted into a mask of disgust as he turned around. "I'm beginning to regret not witnessing what could have been your execution."

A flashback of the heated flames engulfing me in their fervor brought a mind-numbing jolt through me. Dracula said not another word and I was alone, again.

The days passed by like years to me. I was brought a snippet of food each day, but I never ate it until dawn approached: the safest time of the day. My body unconsciously broke down the food particles into nutrients, leaving me hungrier than before. The reek, I had guessed the moment I smelt it after a few days, was me.

The castle's atmosphere convinced me that I was completely alone every once in awhile. Castle Frankenstein must be well-occupied. Every day I longed for the soil dirtying my feet, the smell of fresh rain cleansing my senses, the sun kissing my face and giving a new depth of glow to my eyes. After counting the thirty-first day of my capture, I now knew the true definition of insanity.

My hands bloodied the walls with my persistent hits to escape. I never cried more in my life. The bed was left untouched. Most of my time was kept near the fire. I loathed and love it all at once. You see, elements cannot be used against me unless the user wishes me death. I cannot drown, be crushed, and burned, until it is wished upon me. The embers caressed my extended hand sweetly, swirling around it to heal the broken skin. Just as I closed my eyelids contently and finally at peace, an unexpected knock rapped the door. I tried to ask who it was, but my voice was too dry its non-existent usage.

"It is just me." Verona stepped out from behind the door with a tray of food. The large quantity surprised me. What used to be two slabs of bread and some cheese and water turned into wine, a loaf of bread, a full vine of grapes, and a slab of beef. "You look awful," she bluntly stated. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "You smell awful as well."

I cleared my throat and took a few, desperate gulps of wine to cleanse my vocal cords. "Send my compliments to your master," I sneered.

"My apologies. I haven't been living in this castle often. I was kept unaware of your treatment." Her eyes held honesty.

"He tells me you are rather… defensive when it comes to women. Including me." I inspected her face in curiosity.

"Yes, well, you gave me no reason to harm you." Verona placed the tray on the end table and sat behind me. To remove some of the stench on me out of the disgusting smell I emitted, I removed the outermost layer of my dress. "It was Aleera, after all, with the unquenched thirst of human blood. Not me."

"Have you come to keep me company for the time being?" I asked in caution.

"Yes, I suppose. And I feel you need a bath?"

"Yes, thank you."

Verona observed every fault in my body with sad eyes. The vigor my stance and entire appearance I used to hold seemed to alter dramatically. "You look so lifeless." The purpled bruise on my cheekbone stuck out like a sore thumb. "Did he do that, or was it you?"

The dim, fading amber around my pupils gave away the answer.

"You've made me curious, Verona. What was he like… all those centuries ago?" I pressed, taking a seat on the plush red loveseat a foot away from her. With little effort, I lit the fireplace to let a few hours of warmth into the room. A majority of it was an attempt to bring back the comforting feel this room used to possess. My full attention was on her, who seemed to be lost in many centuries' worth of memories. And then she began.

"He seems a bit brasher now. Always ill-tempered. Of course he looked the same, though his eyes held less age." I couldn't forget how tantalizingly aged those blue eyes of his were. They frightened me to the bone, but they were livid and alluring all the same. "I believe before Aleera and Marishka came along, he could have come across as loving. I was his first bride, his only bride. At the time, he chose me more with his heart than his body. I was so very innocent, then. As shocking as you may take this, Aleera was as innocent as the Virgin herself. During her mortal time."

"That cannot be possible!" I exclaimed.

"It was." A small laugh escaped her lips. "I can still remember the very first day the Count met her. She was the spinning image of purity. Her hair was a bright fiery red; her skin was pale and beautiful. Untainted. She was dressed in a long white sleeping gown, I believe. He came to her when the moon was highest in the sky."

My gasp brought color back into my cheeks. "How romantic. In a way, it can be frightening to a normal human, but romantic all the same." I paused to smile at the thought of a Prince, not him, entering my room in the dead of night to carry me away.

"Yes." Verona smiled. "As romantic as a dark fairytale."

"What about you? When did you meet him?" I hated being so curious but, after all that I perceived the brides as, hearing their history changed my views entirely. Verona squinted, trying to remember.

"I was the daughter of a great Italian ruler. I cannot remember my family, it was so long ago. But I recall my father's discussions on the Count. 'He has become a monster!' he used to say. 'What once ruled so highly over his land, is now one to recoil in hiding. The filthy bloodsucker.' In a way, it's funny." She stopped for a second. A thoughtful look appeared, and it almost looked like she was about to cry. "I never knew not once I would become what I so terribly despised. My father never knew what happened to me. I just simply disappeared. It was the darkest night of the year in Italy. No moon glowed, no stars shone. His eyes illuminated the evening.

"He approached me cautiously. I was afraid but he told me not to be. 'I will not claim your life tonight.' He said to me. 'I just craved to see for myself how beautiful you are.' His hand touched my face, cold as death herself. I was not accustomed to a man's touch. It unnerved me. He kissed me that night, and each night we met until I gave myself to him. Everything." She glanced at me, her deep brown eyes twinkling in amusement at my face. I was in complete awe at her storytelling. Verona had such an exquisite tale I remember spending hours imagining for my own life. How could someone like Dracula be so…romantic, even. It was a side I had not seen. My stay at the castle may have been too brief to unravel that side. Or perhaps that side was lost to the brides long ago. Time and sanity is hard to keep in line when you're trapped.

"Your story is incredible. Just like a child fairytale. How could the Count be such a gentleman to you, when now he is-?"

"Impatient?" Verona answered my missing word. She rolled her eyes and nodded fervently in agreement. "After living four centuries, the desire to procreate grows. He has no idea about half of the emotions that run through the three of us when it comes to recreating our kind." She choked back a cry. At this point anything she told me seemed possible. Maybe she was unique, but I started to beg to differ. "We tried so many times. Each time we had to watch our children disintegrate into nothing. Life for them was always failure."

My eyes widened in sympathy. I should have been grateful, but unknown compassion washed over me.

"He's always frustrated—trying harder each time. We tell him to wait. But why should he listen? We are only his pets. His wives. Our voices are merely suggestions, nothing more."

"You deserve a higher stance. Not to be cross with you, but all this talk of children annoys me, especially since I am supposedly part of this plan."

Verona's gaze lingered on the renewed butterscotch shade of my eyes—what used to be the shiny waves of my brunette hair, and the fierce, exotic features of my face.

"I think there is more to you than anyone planned. In all honesty, you _are _beautiful." She reached across to push some dark locks away from my face, revealing my bare neck. I involuntarily shivered. "Do not fret, my dear. I have no reason to bite. I wouldn't." The bottomless pits of her eyes held promise. I smiled. "Though I cannot guarantee my husband has no intentions. You expected me to be jealous, but I am no Aleera or Marishka. Frankly, I numb myself to situations involving a new bride. I had no choice. Whether you fall to his charms or not, that is your decision." The fire was dimming beside us, small surviving embers struggling to glow.

"From all the violence I've experienced, I doubt there is a gentleman in him to show kindness to a human like me."

She rose from the seat in immortal grace and turned to me. "All in due time, Autumn. Your presence is… how can I put it?" She licked her lips as if to taste the air. "Intoxicating. There is something about you that almost makes me feel human again. He will change. A new dawn approaches, and a new plan unfurls. I feel tomorrow there will be a change in heart at hand."

* * *


	5. Author Note Please Read

I know, I know, it feels like I'm completely psyching you guys out who have put me on your alert list with this updating. Um, there's good news and bad news, but the bad news isn't _that_ severe.

Good news: I'm not killing this story off and leaving it where it is forever. I've done it with stories in the past, but I just can't seem to do it now. School's keeping me busy. WAY too busy. It's hectic enough with homework I can't seem to keep up with, and projects weighing me down. Not to mention the **drama** I have to put up with with one of my no longer best friend. I shouldn't be complaining to all of you who have been dedicated to reading this because a lot of stuff going on is very personal. Then again, my other excuse for not writing this in awhile is impersonal. I blame the hiatus of this story partially on the Joker himself _and_ my main character Violet for begging me to write their tragic story. I have big plans for this story as well, but at the time, my complete focus is to do my best to capture the hauntingly twisted tale of my Joker fic. When I write, I have to listen to music that flashes images of my stories inside my head; I have to set aside a part of my mind _just_ for those characters and plots. And most importantly, I have to get inside my characters' minds and understand their motives, emotions, and plans for future actions. Watching The Dark Knight has made me fall in love with Joker's villainy and deceptive charm. I can't deny that the Joker slammed Dracula to the darkest depths of my mind at that very moment I watched him onscreen, demanding to take up every crevice of infatuation I have for him.

So, here is the bad news: I won't be writing any more of my Dracula fic until I finish my Joker story. If I estimate how long the story will stretch, particularly leaning towards beginning/end of December near Christmas (how ironic), that is when I will _try_ to get another chapter of this story up and running. But who knows? I have a majority of the next chapter written, I just need a few more pages and it could be out sooner than you think. For now, I'd really appreciate comments/concerns/possibly reviews for the readers who want me to continue this. Because I lost interest in this when Violet and Joker started talking inside my head. That doesn't mean the lack of interest will be gone forever. I **will** be back. And I'll hopefully come back with a bang when I'm ready.

Until then,

KissxTemptationx


	6. Insatiable Oils & Lustful Princes

**Finally, the last chapter edit! Now I can resume typing the new structured yet labyrinthian way I've discovered over X-mas break. These previous chapters had a lot of plot-altering in them, whether you migth recognize it or not. I had to take out Dracula's affections because of course I assumed he was physically attracted to her, but, it's only been a month. They have spoken twice on that occasion, and it made me twist my mouth a bit when I read over the part in this chapter after she steps out of the tub and his arms are instantly tightening around her waist. Had to change that. He went OOC when that happened, because it was so soon. Have a happy read! Review if you'd like, it drives me to improve writing and send faster chapters out.**

"Come with me. I suppose after all this talk you would like to take your bath." Verona beckoned consistently with her hand, motioning towards the dreary corridors I haven't seen in over a month. My legs moved with an overjoyed haste to escape the room. They and I were driven with a will to move onwards. After all, this was as close to freedom as it gets. The light taps on the floor were barely audible to my ears, inching through the torch-lit halls without speaking. We moved in silence, turning sharp corners I failed to recognize when I was first brought here.

"Is everyone else-?"

"Aleera and Marishka are sleeping." She assured me in a whisper. "The Count has other business to attend to, as he had told me. It is near morning, and I'm fortunate the moon's half high in the sky. We should hurry, nonetheless." She jerked her head for a tiny glimpse out the window. Night continued to reign. Verona unlatched a tall, worn-down door and ushered me into the room. The floor was constructed into a perpetual pattern of stones, stretching across the humidified space. An indentation three feet deep and six feet wide sunk into the center of the expansive bathing room. "I filled it with as much hot water as possible. There are a few bottles of oils on that shelf as well as a sheet to dry off with." Her finger directed to a wooden shelf hung to my right.

She shuffled to the door, hurried. "Oh. Before I leave, the way back to your room is simple. Walk down the hall starting left, and from there take two rights, one left, and another right to find it. I'll see you later, I suppose." Verona bowed her head politely and shut the door behind her.

The thought of escaping crossed my mind the moment she left. It was unavoidable for someone like me, but the trick was how? The sudden stench of my unclean skin repulsed me, wiping away my scattered ideas in an instance… at least for now.

I removed the remaining under-dresses, happy to walk freely without dirty fabric clinging to my body. The water brought a flash of undeniable warmth into me as I dipped a toe in. The oils smelled heavenly. Being initially connected to the surrounding nature that continues to deteriorate in this world, I recognized each herb and their magical property alchemically fused into the bottle. The first oil had a strong essence of orange tickling my senses. Oranges were also famously known as the Love Fruit. Nearly two-thirds of the oil was gone, and I understood why. Orange peels and seeds, when added to a bath, had rumors of making the bather more attractive. It seemed either the brides or Count Dracula himself had an interest in natural magic. I placed the bottle of orange back on the shelf carefully, and lifted the second one.

This scent was most familiar to me out of the two: roses. This flower was used numerous times throughout my childhood years, even up until my age now. Its typical use was ensuring love, but in an elemental's case, they induced prophetic dreams when the scent entered my sinuses. It was a powerful herb popular in several cultures and uses, as always.

The final bottle produced a sweet, decadent aroma of sweet pea. This one was purposely placed here by the Count, I knew for a fact. It forced the bather to avoid the temptation of infidelity, causing the wearer to admit only the truth as he or she wishes. To their misfortune, only he had the knowledge of this, I assumed.

My option of choice came down to the roses.

Setting the bottle beside the bath, I slid into the water slowly until my body was completely submersed and adjusted to the high temperature. A wall of dripping candles provided the light in the wide room at the cause that this part of the castle lacked windows. A congenial sigh slipped from my mouth as the cramped muscles went into a relaxing release. I let the oil's magic drip over my skin, filling in the broken, dry pores with pleasantly soft flesh. With every inch of me covered in the noxious scent of rose petals, I ducked my head underwater. It was refreshing, to feel sane again. I felt loved by the water when it swerved alongside me. Its dense, cleansing swiftness hugged my body as one. I began to appear to convince myself that the suffering felt exaggerated over the past month.

Was it really that awful being kept safe inside a castle, away from the cruel world awaiting me? Maybe my source of suffering was only Dracula. Excluding Aleera's welcoming attack, everyone hasn't done me harm but him. But… why?

_Did he forbid them from hurting me?_ I mused, surfacing from the water's embrace. _Did I scare him away?_ He hasn't returned since the last time I saw him. _Or did my magic do something to him?_

_-"…Your presence is… how can I put it?" She licked her lips as if to taste the air. "Intoxicating. There is something about you that almost makes me feel human again. He __will__ change."-_

The dull thud of shuffling footsteps shattered my pensive train of thought into minuscule pieces.

"Hello?" I whipped my head around, searching the blackest corners of the room. Nothing. I placed one of my legs out of the water at ease. Hoisting myself out, I grabbed for the sheet to cover my bare skin. Out of all the times, I didn't expect him to be standing behind me. Strong hands unraveled from the darkness and around my hands in a painfully tenacious grip.

My teeth clenched with vexation. "What a surprise." Isn't it ironic just the thought of him makes this monster appear?

"Now, now, don't you be cross with me." The hold on my hands and wrists increased to the point of being inescapable. "I came to apologize."

"An apology? Ha! You are lucky you didn't see me sooner. I could have been classified insane, thanks to you."

"Madness is divinest sense. Let it be known you are free to walk about the castle at your own will… after that little test of mine." The curve of his nose tickled the flesh of my collarbone, senses continuing to pursue that hidden vein burrowed inside me. "That temper cooled since the last time we met. Keep this up and I'll have you house-broken."

I clenched my firsts underneath his grip at several attempts to break away from him. "Don't worry, it's about to flare up again." His staggering height made it hard to push away from him, though he didn't object. I pulled the sheet tighter around my body—the present lust heavily compressed me as it floated inwards through my body. The exposed, naked feeling as his eyes roamed over the loose sheet increased. I'm not one to be self-conscious. I asked a single question, knowing his interpretation would be different from mine.

"How long have you been watching me?"

The glistening sapphires averted to the ceiling, igniting his traditionally charming smile.

"Well, you see. I just accomplished a bit of business I had to take care of, and I heard Verona-"

"No." I whispered low, unfeeling. "How long have you been watching me suffer?" Recognition struck gold in his eyes, for a broader smile appeared. "Awhile." He was amused, thinking about the word 'suffer' combined in a statement with me. "I told you. If you wish to survive, you will have to get used to me doing as I please. That includes my orders. And you disobeyed them."

"You ordered them to let me be starved, driven insane!" I waved a hand at all the candles that extinguished into blackness. Shoving the creaking door aside, I turned left down the hallway without another word to him. His footsteps pursued me close behind while I struggled to keep the long sheet around my body and off of tripping distance near the floor.

"Autumn," he growled inhumanely. "Do not walk away. You're being childish."

"And what do you know about children?" I slowed to a walk in front of him, rounding the specific corners back to my room. The cold presence of his rage was starting to creep inside my body, but I shook it off with an arrogant sense of diligence. The stone floor cracked under my trail of footsteps until I reached the oaken door of my room. The Count was there, as I thought, leaning up against the wood with his arms folded. I mocked him and crossed my own, a tempestuous heat flooding my cheeks.

"I know that my children deserve a full life, not a couple listless seconds. They should be cared for, and that's my hidden drive… why I try harder each time to find a better way for their life." His hardened eyes lessened as he looked at me, the frozen ice hissing and melting away at the thought of his children.

_So there's the man Verona had loved._


	7. Truth Exposed

**I don't deserve any acceptance of an apology for my absence, but I'm hoping for feedback. I suppose I'll go into a short story of my disappearance if any of you still read author's notes :) As I said long ago, my Dracula phase went and became replaced by the Joker. The Joker has lost my interest sadly as winter rounded the corner and I was so very inspired to write Dracula, much more than I ever felt the need to write Joker. I'd read through my story, wincing slightly at my weak points here and there and by the time I was ready to compose a chapter... I felt lost. My inspiration was failing because I felt like a failure at writing. I needed to find out why I loved to write again. Truth be told I had a quarter of this chapter written at the beginning of December. I just couldn't feel proud enough to write more. Then I watched a movie that brought back the most happiest childhood memories of my time - a movie I haven't seen in 10 years. The **Labyrinth**. Jareth's character captivated me to the extent that I felt my stomach lurch in a want that I haven't felt in a long time. I decided that before I could look over Dracula's character here, I had to look over Autumn. She needed more sophisticated appeal and wit to add to her spirit instead of childish intentions, just like Sarah in Labyrinth. I hope that though this is short, much more is to come. **

His outburst my mouth couldn't help but dare to edge into fell into a forced silence. I was distinctly aware my body was half-dressed and exposed to any infliction he could undertake. This awareness caused a second argument I almost insisted to begin cease. Biting my tongue for all the pride I was worth while carefully clenching the towel tighter around my bust, I uttered only a few words I had hoped to force into his thoughts for the duration of his sleeping.

"Tell me… when do you think you will ever find someone like me who isn't afraid to ignite your temper under the utmost reasons? Who will challenge you even if you have the authority to control us?" Long lost fears I never thought would arise boiled in my blood. He couldn't kill me, but he could hurt me, though I continued to smile. "I have no intention to bring about control, Count. I only insist that while I am under your roof, you should explore the nature of my kind and understand my hunger for a challenge. It is only in my nature that I have the spirit to confront you, to test you. Dawn has crossed the horizon and I am hoping that our argument is left to a moot point."

His jaw clenched and unclenched under the porcelain folds of his skin. The overpowering air suffocating my every chance to take in a regular breath billowed away with the wind entering the castle halls. Before he could say another word, he tilted his head to acquiesce my request and disappeared down the brightening corridor.

Air found its way back into my body and I closed the door behind me hastily, too exhausted from his presence to care more than sleep.

The next morning refused to leave me at an ill sense of ease from the previous night... due to the rough predicament of poking at the Count's old wounds. It was strange, how inclined he thrills into a situation where rage is the key ingredient against my own blind fear. He can throw me around, fling a few threats into my ear, force an earth-trembling chill strong enough to make me cower at his knees, but then suddenly the next moment he's staring dumbfounded at that silver tongue of mine. From the knowledge I have presently of his persona, I'd hate to know him for an eternity.

I slept an entire afternoon of somnolence away. My body grew over the time I spent at one of his many castles familiarized with the sleeping habits of Dracula and his brides. Through the time that I slept, after knowing my month of abuse had ended as fast as its infliction began, I rested with the highest tranquility no one ever dares to experience just once in a lifetime. The bath water and its magical properties in the oil remained to leave a tingling sensation behind, running up from the base of my toes to the tips of my fingers. Dawn's rays had come and gone along with the ethereal sunlight of the day—the shining lunar beams of the moon settled down in its century's old place below the stars.

Every joint in my body cracked as I uncurled out from the ledge of the window, an obvious notion that I paid no attention to the bed supplied for my comfort. Otherwise, I did take an acceptance to the elaborate satin dresses adorned in fine lace and skilled beading I was given by the Count's attempt at a courteous gesture. After my argument with him, I hadn't seen any of the brides or the Count since I retired to my room earlier this morning.

The opportunity came time as I dressed into my gown to explore the castle. My hand grasped for one of the five candlesticks in my room as I inched open the door. If I was capable at hearing any footsteps in the halls now, they were inaudible from here. Torches, like earlier this morning, illuminated the corridors I walked down. Most halls were familiar to me, but I reminded myself that Verona only took me not even a quarter's way into the castle's depths. It was, after all, the brides' wing he requested me to be housed in. The idea unnerved me yet it calmed me at the same time. Sounds of only my solitary footsteps echoed repetitively down the hall for what seemed an hour. I studied the ancient paintings while continuing on my walk, completely forgetting that I wouldn't find my way back to my room without the help of this palace's inhabitants.

Scarce images fluttered past my eyes as I walked past. I found myself touching the rough canvas, trying to soak in anything that gave me the artist's feelings through every painting. Italy's profound Venice passed by, France's grape vineyards flushed in red and purples caused my mouth to water, and the enticing beauty of the snow-capped mountains of the Carpathians made my knees tremble at my life history spent there. I paused at the very last painting four halls down—its simplistic power exhibited a charm no other painting held. A rich sepia tone aged the ancient painting gracefully, displaying a much more reserved and younger looking Count Dracula in front of a courtyard. Hedge mazes and carefully placed stones curved around him as he leaned against the entrance to an unfamiliar castle, a tiny smile pulled at his thin lips as if he thought of something particularly funny while posing.

The painter's hand captured his haunted eyes in more of a remarkable way I could ever have thought portraitures could. They burned their own flame through the frame, staring back at me like he knew exactly who I was. The portrait was beautiful, but I knew at one moment or another, my eyes forced themselves away.

"It is of no importance to you, Autumn. He's a horrid man who's taken you away from everything you've known, forcing you to serve a purpose unknown at this time." I implanted the words into the closest depths of my mind. I was here for a purpose, and that is _exactly_ why I'm walking these halls to find out that specific purpose.

As if my feet drove me to instinct while I walked, they halted at the tallest double doors I've seen since I lived here. This meant one of two things: they were either the way out, which I highly doubted since I'm two floors away from any exit—or they were the doors leading to an entire room of importance that might eventually fall into my hands to use. I gave them a heavy shove, cracking it enough that I could slide into the opening, and used my back to push them shut. Every wall or space of floor was covered with bookcases stretching to the chandelier ceiling that told a story in of itself. My mouth dropped at how many books existed in a single room; I couldn't fathom to wonder where I should start.

"My own history would be good enough," I sighed.

It seemed like the minutes passed for hours as I searched high and low for the mythical area of the library. Poetry engrossed my interest for awhile as I skimmed through Edmund Spenser, Sir Philip Sidney, the famous Ben Jonson and his tribunes, and even William Shakespeare himself. Holding Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene—my all-time favorite of his poetry—under my arm, I circled five more bookcases lines in several rows before I reached any part of mythology. The candlelight's glow I continued to cherish in my left hand illuminated each text. The candle's illumination made me pause at the most austere and simple textbook burdened by towering, inadequate works of literature burying it to the back of the case.

"That's odd."

The book had nothing but a title curved in elegant script on its spine… _The Elemental_.

Hand trembling in curiosity, I lifted the book from its shelf in a delicate manner in case of its age and carried it to a large table in the middle of the surrounding bookcases. Its condition was enough to make me bite my lip in distaste. The pages were worn and frail, tinged the color of fresh hearth in the earth. Several people must have strived to get their hands on this book. The quiet stillness of the room left me in a peace I craved for a long time, and I opened the first two pages to observe the contents. The title was once again cleanly written on page, bearing only a phrase and the written date.

No author.

_The Elemental  
The world is bestowed at the grace of God as a place for not only humans but heaven's earth guardians to wander. May their existence shine light on the world when it is run into ending's darkness._

_Written the 17th of May, 1463._

"Do I sense the irony?" I laughed. It was written a year after Dracula's death.

The idea was laughable, but deep within me a fateful terror rose. Could this be the answer? Might this be why he's keeping me here? My smile faltered. The only choice to find out was to turn the page. A preface written in the same sharp scripture as the title page continued.

_Questions seem to rise when we hear the word Elemental. What is an Elemental? Where can we find it and how to we know when we are facing one? We may assume the term is used in relative likeness to that of the Fae or possibly witchcraft. Who else gives reigns to features of the world we cannot control? Unlike the deception and devilish deeds of witches and the wicked illusions conjured by the Fae, Elementals are earth-bound angels of God._

_The only humane conclusion to hearing of that is that they are assumed to be Fallen Angels. Do not misinterpret the spiritual meaning when I say they are not. The Fallen have been thrown out of heaven's gates, relinquished of their wings, and led into the clutches of Satan's grasp. They are not born from the soil of the earth. When Lucifer fell from heaven and his followers in pursuit, God needed a way to maintain an order on this planet while daemons from Satan's hell continued to roam free. From that he took fire and welded spirit, from earth's soil he molded their bodies and made skin, from the seas of our land he created unearthly eyes, from the air he breathed life into them and made them human, and from the heavenly spirit himself he surged a power unknown to mankind into their pulsing veins. The Elemental was born._

From all my teachings, all my histories taught to me, they were never taught in the way that everything felt new again. I could literally feel my blood pulsating with excitable energy. My fingers tingled at every touched I made to the page.

"Incredible." I whispered silently to myself.

The preface page was turned regrettably and I found the index. Topics ranged from _Location Origins_, _Appearance_, _Potential Encounters_, _Myths_, to finally two words I have waited to discover since my unexpected stay at this castle: _Prophecies & Legends_.

Footsteps from outside the doors caused my head to turn sharply and slam shut the book. Dust enveloped the atmosphere around me and I tried my best to rise quietly to match the silence of the library, carrying under my arm both the books. My feet tapped the stone quick enough to give off the smallest noise. My back pressed against a far away staircase in fear of the impossible creature lingering behind the door. Could it be Aleera or Marishka? Or far much worse? The door flew open powerfully, a creature of supernatural strength only capable to fling it away.

My candle blew out, and I was enveloped in breathing from across the room.

* * *


	8. Thou Shalt Never Know Thy Destiny

**Finally, I'm done with this chapter! I had absolutely no time on my hands in these past three months. Everything was utter chaos. SAT's, which I did horribly average on :( Thousands of projects and homework. I felt horrible for not writing, so I've been writing consistently this past spring break, and here is the result! I'm probably losing readers the more I update less, and I'm terribly sorry. I have a blog now up and running that is updated with news on this story and potential others, if any of you are curious. I'll leave you all to reading. Review with comments, please and thank you :)**

I held my body closer against the shadowed definition of the ligneous bookcases, making an ignorant attempt to hide and blend into its silhouette. The breathing grew hushed, anticipating the far from serene moment of confrontation. In my momentary knowledge of the unknown presence, this person closing in on the remaining space between me and the chance to escape was feminine.

"Autumn?" The rich, sonorous accent of Verona echoed.

The absence of my harsh breathing resurfaced the atmosphere of the library. Hurrying around the corner to properly greet her, I nearly collided with a second body not of the same form as Verona's. Marishka's devious smile had been displayed in my line of vision.

"Hello, Autumn." She replied, folding her arms across her chest, at the same time leaning against the solid bookcase behind her. Marishka stepped forward as Verona, appearing only a couple paces back in the dim candlelight, eyed her actions in remote disposition. A clock's pulsating ticks sounding in the backdrop of the library's silence instilled an awkward eye-to-eye stare against her and me. Refusing to break the visible tension in the air, Marishka recompensed with immediate reply. "I felt the need to formally introduce myself, since I am the only bride lacking good," her face averted toward Verona, "and bad relations to the guest of the castle."

The scenic beauty of Marishka's manners bowed her into an elegant curtsy—not in the youthful, girlish curtsy, but a bow of a woman hindering all harsh feelings as a matter of fair reverence. Woman-to-woman, I grasped the silken fabrics of my dress and crossed my ankles, falling into a low bow.

"Pleased to meet the unbiased bride of the Count," I pulled my mouth into the most convincing smile I could gather under my anxious reaction to our close proximity. Verona, who seemed to be on guard during that moment, relaxed her shoulders and turned her face in a different direction of the library. The books that slipped from my grasp at Marishka's unexpected encounter laid on the floor, waiting for me to gather them in my desperate hold for the knowledge inside them. As soon as I had them in my hands a second time, Marishka and Verona ran their eyes over the stack, more than overtly curious about my intentions with the volumes. I clutched them closer, idly running my fingertips along the aged spines and glancing up at the brides' expressions.

"How did the two of you happen to find me in the first place? Was I that loud of a commotion simply reading?" I quickly asked, trying to direct their attention onto another topic in fear of what they'd say about the books.

"We assumed you would find your way here," Verona replied. "The largest of doors guard significant areas of the castle, and the servants are not known to enter without orders from us or the master. But," she halted her explanation and took a look at the books. "If I may ask, what are you so keen to hide from us in those books?"

"It's not a matter of hiding them, it's just my history—or at least the history of my kind-"

"So that you might be able to understand our master's thoughts about you, and why he continues to detain you here." Verona quirked, running a perfectly polished finger down the spine of a book that took her interest.

"We do not even know his reasons," Marishka added.

My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I turned my back to them in thought, staring around the voluminous space of the present sanctuary of books. A month of memories flew backwards as I traced back to the time I was taken by Dracula.

_What was it that he said about me?_

"After Aleera's attack…" I began. "He said I could be used for the time you all lose tracking the monster. This monster… is this Dr. Frankenstein's creation you speak of?"

Verona stared out from the pages of her book at me with an unwavering expression.

"Correct." She answered, snapping the volume shut with a puff of ancient dust.

"Hadn't the doctor and his creation perished in the flames of the windmill seven months ago?"

"The doctor, yes. The monster is either dead or has fled into hiding… or so we've continuously come to believe. Searching for him in pure daylight is only a snippet of the deal the Count struck up for you as payment for your salvaged life. But that is not all he stores away in his mind. Marishka and I, in collaboration with the overheated talks with Aleera, have come to a conclusion that you will be used against the Valerious family. Familiar?" Verona noticed the rampant darkness deforming the facets of my face in the instant she uttered that name. Truth be told, I had known the Count pursued the annihilation of the Valerious family for centuries, and I knew the unerring reason: revenge. This revenge is one of the factors that drove him to strike a new flame with the devil, seeking the deaths of all that betrayed him. I, for certain, could never sink into the devil's hands, not if my life rested in balance with the earth for his to claim. However, being part of a plot for vengeance against the very family aiming to destroy all good and evil supernatural creatures, including me, was compelling and inescapable.

"I know that look." Marishka half-grinned. "Is it possible an elemental like you can fall on hands and knees for an act of retribution?" She carefully cupped my chin and lifted my face into the candlelight of the room, observing the ardent gold flames forever lit in my eyes. "Your wild spirit wills whatever desired," she laughed. "Darkness and light walk hand-in-hand concerning you, darling. You are literally balancing on an indecisive pin-needle at this present second." Marishka released hold on my face and lightly touched _The Elemental_ supported in my arms. "Verona and I are as curious to your purpose as you yourself seem to be. Shall we read?"

_Why not?_ I thought.

"Certainly, as long as you both discuss none of this to Aleera or the Count." Silent promises were made, and the three of us settled in chairs around the corner of a table precariously. I opened the book second-fold, stalling nervously around chapters that had nothing to do with prophecies. "Let's flip to _Potential Encounters_ before settling on _Legends_." Turning the tissue-paper-thin pages, we happened upon a few laughable and believable encounters with my kind.

_The ticking down after midnight awakened me from my sleep. My family's house was as quiet as the distilled wind outside, and had no trace of unsettled energy to wake me. The sound rousing me from sleep was a laugh otherworldly, and unreal. I rose to peek from the sill of my window, dragging along my dressing gown hastily. A woman's enchanting voice caught on the wind and steadied its lure in the air tickling my ears. She pranced across the center of our village with blithe steps, spinning around, dressed in only her petticoat. Perhaps I had moved too quickly, or made the window creak from my hand, but she turned her head upwards in the direction of my figure… and stilled. _

_Never had I seen a face so sharply inhuman, and eyes so captivating by their glow. Her skin shimmered in the moonlight, as if she had spent several hours powdering crushed, sparkling minerals across her body. Every poised yet wild posture posed by her arms and legs was threatening and welcoming equally. And her eyes. They beckoned no harm, only curiosity, and glowed like the rays of the sun. Shall she be Sidhe? Vampire? The childish thoughts of my mind at that age never thought Elemental. It was a sight engraved in my mind forever, for as soon as I looked back for her, she was gone.  
_

"Your kind has the tendency to make people believe you can be anything." Marishka sighed. "I'm ever so covetous of your gifts. Your body is alive and fruitful like a human's, yet you possess equal power to us and may walk in sunlight as you please. We are dead, powerful, with unfading beauty. What I'd give to touch sunlight again." She tucked escaping locks of golden hair behind her ear and turned an entire chapter to _Legends_. "No need to hinder on the _Encounters_ pages, Autumn. You are our encounter. Let's see what rubbish humans fabled about you."

"Nothing that I haven't heard once or twice before," I genuinely laughed.

_There are various forms of Elementals spread worldwide from the seas of the New World, to the ancient shores of Venetian Italy. Their well-acquainted relations with the faeries have twisted the origin of the Elemental into fae folklore. But, these earthen-made children of God stand extensively separate from the Underground royalty. As each are born, a prophecy sent from the mouth of the Supreme One is made. His archangels, second-in-command, carefully watch over them after their natural human birth, for the uncontrollable disposition of Elementals sway loyalty at places in their everlasting life. _

_A name has come to mind in this century when asked about the mysterious beings: the Forgotten Guardians. The birth-given prophecy sent to the select few born with an Elemental spirit becomes a life-long test. Time either shall run short after they've grown to fulfill God's word, or time shall run eternity's path until they serve their purpose. Hence the term: 'forgotten'. Preoccupation within guarding the earth as well as solving an irresolute prophecy forces their travels to dash endlessly. By the time they tire of searching for their intended purpose, and leave behind the transcendental connection held with nature that links them to God, they are seemingly lost to wander until darkness claims them.  
_

I shut the book immediately after the historic and most disagreeing passages of words in the novel tainted my thoughts, unsettling me. Verona and Marishka looked over with detached sympathy as I laid my hands on the cover of the book, gripping the spine in hope all the words just read to me had no existence. I knew their views were indifferent to mine. Their souls, already dabbled in darkness, had no objection when knowing I might surrender to their side.

"I think that's enough discovering at my displeasure." We rose from our seats, unfit to know what to say or what action to take when confronted with my despondency surrounding the unread prophecy awaiting me in that book.

"Shall we show you other rooms of the castle-?"

"No. I want to be returned to my room."

They showed me the easiest pathway back, skipping the hall of paintings I so admired, and left me in my solitude. Accompanied by the crackling fire and hunger satisfaction of a vine of grapes and wheel of cheese, I curled up near the arm of the settee.

Staring down into the flames, it had occurred to me that, perhaps, my soul already plunged headlong into darkness. I was in Dracula's castle, locked away for purposes unknown to me. I could have rebelled, proved my love of nature and followed His unrelenting will even if that meant death to the Count's standards. But I had not stood out of place, not for more than a few minutes at a time. The castle left my body weak, despite the easy mobility in my legs. Every second wasted here is another second the burning hope in me is lost to Dracula's cause. For days, I longed to journey out on horseback under the commands of Dracula—it provided an agreeable opportunity to clear my head and ravish myself in the elements' clutches.

A knock shook the door, suddenly wrenching me out of my rapt reveries. I laid the archaic book carefully on the end table, and made my way across the room to open the door.

"Good evening, Autumn." Dracula's smile had enough signals of forthcoming mendacity that felt it unwise to even acknowledge his presence in the doorway.

"What is it that you want?" I declared, hurriedly walking towards the table to conceal the book from his view. I felt him edge closer to me, halting, and then directing his gait towards the window.

"I understand that you've been longing to be out of the confinement of this palace," he cleared his throat appropriately, "because of your predestined nature, correct?" I affirmed his question by nodding. "Take a walk with me. Your use to me is beginning this moment by a simple task I have for you." He held the door open for me, gesturing me out first before following.

We walked in the hush for quite awhile. A dewy mist settled over the motley colors of stained glass, creating a beautiful morph of distorted surfaces and rainbow spray. He was remarkably tranquil when compared to his fit I provoked two days ago. Every now and then, I turned my head an inch to glance at his masculine features twisting and untwisting with an impulsive urge to speak. Spinning around corners and elaborately decorated hallways, I realized we were sinking stairwells lower than the level of the bride's quarters.

"Where are you taking me?"

"A place where you will be more content to talk instead of losing control with that brazen tone I hear so often." He professed boldly, holding out his arm for me to take as we reached the base of the last set of stairs. A marbled floor expanded out from under my feet in the illuminated entrance hall to the palace. I put my hand to the crook of his arm, reluctant. We walked away from the heavy entrance, past the stairs, and through an archway swallowed up in translucent curtains revealing a pathway swarmed in moss and everything imaginably green.

What emitted from me was a mix between a long-held sigh and a choked up gasp of excitement. The air was filled with the smell of rain and the stone-built pathway branched out into a cluster of forest extending infinite lengths away from the castle's posterior walls. Rain-kissed leaves brushed sweetly against the skin of my arms as we walked, and I couldn't help but smile at a renewed strength growing like roots once more through my body. The tenseness in my muscles, the lone ache that had built from separation of my home since the time of my capture, was released. Uncertainty swarmed me, for I was confused by this act of the Count. It could have been an act to supply a beginning strength for the long road ahead, or it might have been an act of kindness.

"Thank you." I whispered, not wanting to look at him and reveal any soft quality on my face. He didn't deserve my kindness—I was his prisoner, his forced day walker to carry out his cruel duties. All he'd receive from me was gratitude each time I would be given what I wanted.

Removing my shoes, I let my toes sink into the fertile soil of the small garden of flowers blossoming along the pathway, minding my own time while he gathered his thoughts together.

"You had a job for me, at last?" I inquired, smiling as the spray lingering in the fragrant air turned to rain before my eyes.

"Yes," he replied. In a changed second, he stood tall and arrogant, heightened to the superiority he believed he held over me. I ignored it dismissively, too joyful to be back in my elements to care. "The young Valerious' father is preparing to take leave on an expedition towards the Black Sea. Initially, I could have one of my brides snatch him up in the evening, but I aim to be deceptive and inconspicuous. I am aware your kind has the gift of shape shifting—three-quarters of your body is made from materials of the earth. Their village knows your face too well for you to travel undetected."

"Shape shifting takes a great deal of energy out of me, Count. Your decision to keep me unexposed to the source of my energy over the month and a half of my stay has left me weak. How am I to travel?" Lifting the skirts of my dress, I stepped out of the soil and onto the stone passage to face him. He sharply caught his breath, I had heard, at the sight of me.

A slow smile crossed my face before he could notice its existence, as did his wondered expression at my appearance. Vibrant color had filled my cheeks again, a soft pink staining my lips from the mist clinging to my thirsty skin. Life flickered in my eyes as it should be, and I took no surprise with him suddenly seeing my normal, healthy visage.

"You have my permission to come here as you please. The moment you leave Castle Frankenstein, as I will make you arrive there in a day's time, elements will surround you on your journey. That is enough strength to keep you going." Dracula turned from my appearance with his hands crossed behind his back, continuing, "Boris Valerious is constantly guarded on his excursions by his personal sentry—trained women and men alike. You are to replace one of the guards, take their form, and accompany him to his destination. My brides will visit during the night for your updated information. When you deem it necessary for them to take him, you will make certain he isn't conscious once he's abducted. Are we agreed?" He approached, towering over my smaller frame expectantly.

"What is _his_ use to you?" At my question he flashed a knowing grin, one I would have hit him for displaying.

"That is for you to discover on your own. You craved to be released from this so-called prison, and this is your opportunity. Take it and carry out your assigned duties, or resume your stay here and lose this chance." His sapphire stare chilled me from my fingers to my toes, so cold I felt the color drain from my face.

My bare feet twisted around, back facing his inquisitive mien as I bent to pick up a bundle of flowers to my nose.

"I accept," I plainly stated. The thudding echo of his military boots faded into the uneasy downpour of rain, fading until his suffocating presence haunted me no more.


	9. Handmaids and Naked Pasts

**Hey everyone. Again, its been a long time. April, May, and the first week of June until school ended was hell on earth. Summer wasn't very nice to me either. I had my wisdom teeth removed the week after school ended, and then was thrown two very pleasant vacations the other two weeks. I finally threw myself in front of the computer and started finishing the chapter I hadn't been able to finish in a long time. I hope everyone appreciates this chapter, the main action of the story is finally going underway in the next one. I feel like I've bored you all with the last 9. And** please review**, no matter the length of your input. It can be three words and I'll be satisfied, but I'd love the feedback tremendously. Even critiques would be lovely. Hit me with your best shot. :)** _For those who are Labyrinth fans_ **as well, I finally have a** _Labyrinth_** story running which will certainly go far and it's lacking reviews at the moment in its early stages. I would appreciate comments on those that like an interesting Laby fic. There is Romanian language in this story near the end, and in specific order the translations are "my sweet" and "my dear." ****Enjoy!**

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**_A day to gain my strength and piece together a brilliant plan._

The aromatic fragrance of white dahlias bursting forth through my palms settled my nerves, temporarily pushing aside the dark act I'm now obligated to commit in exchange for two week's worth of freedom. Freedom was certainly worth my life at this point. The Valerious family had no significance to me, so why did I feel like I was becoming the source of a future chain of events? Dracula wanted Boris: the eyes, ears, and mouth of the family. Without him, Anna and Velkan would be rendered blind, and vindictive. Was this his objective all along? Certainly there must be much more. I came to the quickened decision that Verona might spill his reasoning to me, if I had the spare time to visit her. Rising from the floor of rich, fertile soil, I turned my head in the direction of the castle, cringing at the thought of entering it a second time.

Looking momentarily to the skies while sauntering lazily into the entrance of the palace, I whispered to my heavenly commander and savior, "If this is where you wish me to stay and serve, then I will. But if this is otherwise hindering me from my duties, then please extricate me from this hell." Ducking under the archway, I caught a servant passing by, who had been fleetingly running with bundles of sheets and fabrics tucked in the crook of her arm towards the staircase in an effort of discreet stealth. Despite her hastening rush, she had been considerate enough, though obligated under her duties, to show me the way to my room so that the route was at last embedded in my memory. Politely dismissing herself, she left on her chosen course without a single look of wonder about my stay.

Falling back into the confines of my room whether by choice or unwillingly was beginning to make me feel like I was walking through a recurring nightmare. The room had a comfort to it that required a prolonged stay to become accustomed to. But after visiting the castle's gardens, nothing would comfort me until I stepped into the unprecedented freedom beyond Dracula's castle walls. I discovered preparation for the trip to be quite simple. On the bed laid a variety of clothes set to a simple village appearance in its modern and work-ethical style. To the left of the bed sat an intricate chest containing all sorts of weaponry from daggers to beautiful rapiers and scimitars. I curiously grabbed the hilt of a crafted rapier, swiping it through the air with a clumsy, inexperienced hit, nearly slicing the carpet beneath me by its sharpened point. Other supplies, such as burlap sacks full of food and blankets warm enough to shield my body from the Romanian cold were all at my disposal. The Count's feigned generosity, it seemed, persisted though it ceased in tricking me.

A timid knock floundered into the wood of the door, the servant who previously helped me to my room appearing around the edge of the entrance.

"Sorry to disturb you, miss. I've been sent by the Count's request to help prepare your attire before departure." Surveying the items around me, hands clenched and pressed to my hips, I glanced toward the servant who seemed to remain carrying bundles of fabric and dresses in her arms.

A grimace easily crossed my face.

"Very well," I sighed. "If I may ask, since I don't see you as a class lower than me nor inferior, what is your name? It's uncomfortable enough having a person help without knowing what they're addressed by."

The woman bowed her head with a trained respect; a faint, shy smile crossing her lips.

"My name is Catalina, miss."

"Well, Catalina," I smiled back. "Please call me Autumn and not that dreadful 'miss.' I'm not any higher than you in status. Besides the bodice, and oh I do find them too suffocating, but I suppose to blend in, I must wear one again—you should not feel obligated to help in preparation."

Catalina let out a soft laugh, the reaction lighting up her face five times brighter above her usual clandestine demeanor. "I would like to help you with the rest of your supplies, if you don't mind. You're quite kind to be living inside the walls of this castle, granted that you are also residing in the brides' quarters." She replied with interest, beginning to loosen the laces of the corset on the settee while I stared after her in equal curiosity.

"You might have been ill-informed, but I had no choice in the matter of living here."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. You hadn't a clue." Catalina, with the corset unlaced, walked behind me with permission to unfasten the holdings of my dress. No hesitant second passed by, and with my permission, I let her push the straps off my shoulders to the floor without a care. The feeling of being bare never bothered me so much as the slight discomfort of watching eyes. After all, to be naked is symbolic of truth and is an expression of pure spirit—a perfect comparison to that of my nature. I felt free and at my best without clothes. Catalina started to fasten the bodice around my hips, beginning the constricting ties from bottom to top, stealing a puff of air from my lungs with each insistent knot. By the time she reached the middle of my ribcage, her fingers taut and rough against my skin through the tiring loops of the corset, all oxygen had escaped me. She slipped a lovely emerald pinafore over the bodice, knotting the ties up my back a second time as I turned toward the fastenings laid out to carry my weapons. They fit my calves and ankles snugly, enough space to fit five assortments of knives and blades in hiding.

"Catalina?"

"Yes?"

It was a question I had to ask everyone who lingered around the Count longer than I did without throwing him into a fit of anger. I couldn't resist the biting interest of learning more about the stranger whose tales surrounded me since birth.

"You have been around the Count more than hundreds of times, am I correct?"

"Of course, mi—Autumn."

"I would like to know about his character, if you have more knowledge than the general public on the matter," I entreated, running my fingers through the knots of my damp hair rendered sweet-smelling by the rain. Catalina paused in her duties, entangled in past thoughts, before resuming in placing a brown leather vest around my torso, haphazardly pushing up my breasts to my dismay.

"Well, let's see," she sighed. "He had always been absorbed with his work when I saw him—always lingering over a desk full of papers, diagrams, and mathematical equations laid beside architectural designs. Drive and succession throttle him forward, especially after the death of Dr. Frankenstein. May you not speak this to another soul, but he keeps a journal inside a compartment of his desk as well. I happened upon him writing in it from time to time when I dress the beds and dust the drapery. His superiority is predictable when he speaks to me or the other servants. He doesn't sneer—never sneers at us unless consumed in his common rages. He treats us as a class lower by which we are, often accompanied by his renowned chivalrous respect. He has a natural charm to him, I'm certain you're familiar with his flattery towards women; always whispering clever thoughts in a bride's ear, beckoning her with his wiles to a night of unspoken pleasure. It is a life they uphold proudly, but birthing their dead children is an entirely different story. I shall never deny the haunted look in his eyes, too. Vampirism is a gift, but also a curse. Working as a servant here for the past half decade leaves my eyes open to the undead far more than I could have imagined. The brides are unkind but also kind. Immortality only erases half of the human emotions. Love eventually turns to lust, because loving a person forever is less than a hundred years for a human. For vampires, love mingles with blood and therefore transforms itself to a lust for both. It takes a several hundred years for a vampire to find everlasting love, if that emotion has taken any root in their being by that time. It's quite obvious the Count shows no unadulterated love to his brides, only pleasure, and they know that."

"A crave for rebirth and new life arises eventually, something his lovers strived for even to this day. If they cannot find love in a man, they can find love in their children. But their children have yet to be born from eternal sleep. With immortality, there is an underlying failure to every decision made." Catalina released a deeper, sadder sigh than her previous, turning away to roll up two blankets and pack them into a smaller bag. I released my hair and rose to my feet to help pack fruits and bread for the journey, encased in my own world of thoughts that I didn't realize Catalina observing my movements.

"I did overhear him say that you are an Elemental, but I had no opportunity to believe it until now. Are Elementals immortal, too?"

"Yes. I haven't reached a hundred years though; I'm still at a decent mortal age of three and twenty years." The food was packed, the weapons still had yet to be fastened, blankets were supplied, and dressing attire was nearly finished. I needed more things to occupy me. Catalina's questioning started to take a turn into my life, events I felt I shouldn't repeat out loud. She had no fault in her curiosity, she _was_ simply a human placed in a position where the supernatural lives but a room away. Unnatural creatures heightened her knowledge the more she understood their motives, their past. I had only one reply for her in hoping to counteract her theory around immortality, "Time is still ahead of me, Catalina. Until the day I am judged, I have forever to find what I want."

"Forever is a very long time." A rustic voice, rich with an accent of ancient Italy pierced the dreary atmosphere of the room. Verona stood in the doorway, dressed in flamboyant colors causing her to illuminate the darkness. She stretched a hand to the wall with all her weight, shifting her dark eyes to Catalina. "You are dismissed."

And the woman, who only a couple hours ago amused me with her haste to perform duties at a run, returned to her mute displacement, dashing out of the room with nothing but a glance back at me.

"I made my first human friend today," I smiled with a hint of subtle satisfaction. "I would say that's a minor improvement to my sanity."

The corners of Verona's mouth twitched. "Perhaps you're not as alone as you seem to think, Autumn. I promise to have her assigned as your permanent handmaid from now on. Our master sent me to check that your things are packed and to inform you that you have approximately an hour before leaving."

I looked up from finishing my packing, my eyes widening, startled.

"An hour? I thought I had a day to prepare. I felt it appropriate to get everything ready so I would have spare time to myself in the gardens during the day." Verona's face mirrored mine in comparison—confusion and faint annoyance. The sun would be rising once more, breaking the horizon in only a matter of hours. "Is it possible that I could be taken there before sunrise? Have I a room to board in there? —" I shut my mouth at that instance. The tone of my voice had turned into a foreign, materialistic edge. Becoming accustomed to castle servants and attendants was something that I rejected with high contempt.

Verona ignored my internal struggle and turned her face to the door. "I suppose he has certain haste when it concerns time limits. He wishes to go over the minor advantages, disadvantages, and state of affairs briefly, when you're left to do your duties."

I tossed off the short-coming departure sentiments and smiled back at Verona. "Then tell him I can leave now. I hope it eases his mind that I'm abiding by his orders, because usually, I wouldn't be so tempted to agree with a man."

She threw her head back and laughed.

After Verona made her leave from the room, Dracula had entered a second following without a spoken word, expectantly knowing it was time to follow through with my short-lived freedom and his irreverent actions. My supplies packed for the journey were procured from me, disappearing out of sight as I was led quickly by candlelight down a labyrinth of halls and onto a balcony overlooking the tops of evergreens. He carried me by flight almost cautiously. I sensed his agitation in the way his claws tightened around my arms, and the heavy gaze monitoring the thin line of light breaking the horizon behind the mountains. Castle Dracula was an estimation of gradual distance; I wondered what had occurred that made my leave predetermined a day earlier. The wind was cool and dewy against my legs, an aftereffect of the storm that brewed over the castle walls and the village below it. I found myself at peace knowing my stone prison no longer existed for a limited time, and equally felt connected to my homeland again as we swept over treetops and roofs of familiar structure.

An abandoned castle crept closer into my view as time passed and as the sky's nightly hues lessened in darkness. Castle Frankenstein stood ahead, a solemn gloom surrounding the outside architecture, but what lay inside was left to the imagination until I set foot in it. We landed on the roof in minutes after the Valerious' village came in sight. My feet shuffled away from the Count after he set me down, eyes inching closer to the skylight dropping down into a cobwebbed laboratory.

He answered my question before it ever eased out of my breath. "Boris Valerious is leaving two days prior than expected. I thought it seemed best to prepare you and inform you of what you might face before, during, and after you have fulfilled my orders."

"After?" I inquired, taking my intent stare off the machines inside the vacant laboratory to focus on him. He didn't look nervous—a man filled to the brim with his arrogance could never risk such a weakness in the lines of his face. The Count was centered, his eyes fixated on every quick movement I unconsciously made, the expressions transforming my face at each moment. He was monitoring my motives, trying to detect any regret or doubt flickering in my eyes. My intentions were objectively unclear, and it showed in his face.

I clenched a hand on the stone wall leaning beside me as he paced, stealing fair glimpses at the brightening sky above us. "Yes. When the sentry returns to the Valerious Manor, you will be returning with them. Time is restricted by then, and sooner than later they will discover that you have been an imposter." He walked to my side as his information took root in my mind, his palm upwards in permission to take my hand. The nipping cool of his fingers refreshed the twisted thoughts throwing me off focus, and he continued while leading me through several staircases into a warmer climate of the castle, "Forgive my discriminate boldness, but any questions I ask you from hereon only benefit my success and your limited freedom when you answer 'yes.' Are you capable of riding horseback without it being side-saddle?"

"Of course I can." I proclaimed proudly, a smirk surfacing at the notion of riding side-saddle.

"Are you capable of carrying heavy weapons on your person for long distances?" At that he returned the smirk and carried a swift scan over the slimmer curves of my physique meant to bear the holdings for weapons. I flinched away from the feeling of being stripped down by his chilling eyes.

"Can you wield a sword? A dagger, perhaps?" His persistent inquiry of physical defense threw me off balance, however, and I directed my face away from him. He had noticed my uneasiness. "Are you able to fire a gun, in the very least?"

Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, my eyes darted to his inquisitive and stern face staring back at me.

"Perhaps I can pick up the talent in a trained woman's body," I replied.

"That remains unsatisfactory. I must assume the seven other guards accompanying you can make better haste. Creatures of our world hide in the dark of the forest—creatures you would never desire to meet. Nightfall will be the worst of your journey. My brides shall be ordered individually in taking watch over you. Ah, here we are." Our feet shuffled to a stop in the heated hallway. Any trace of light from the outside had been blackened out by heavy drapery, artificial flames lashing out of sconces and candelabras protruding from the walls. He opened the door to a room that looked as if its occupant had been gone for a long time. Cobwebs dusted corners of furniture, the carpet appeared dreadfully raggedy, and the covers of the bed lay in a disarray of empty warmth. Dracula waved a sweeping gesture across the room as my lips pursed a substandard, thin line.

"This was the doctor Frankenstein's room, the only room in this castle with adequate furnishings. I must ask you not to leave this room unless you wish yourself an early death, judging the fact by your immortal lifespan. My collection of werewolves… favors the corridors of this castle, and the blood thirst runs endless in their systems."

I swiped a finger against the banister of the bed, bringing it back covered in dust.

"You might not be aware of this due to your vain and far from altruistic way of thinking," I replied. "But I was born with the ability to protect myself. You know, conjuring the earth's elements in regard of my personal safety. The thought could have escaped you, but I am certainly not the woman you peg me to be."

Dracula's stance had altered the particular instant I opened my mouth, his own lips raising into a wicked grin. The anger had shown in his eyes, but his mouth betrayed another emotion entirely.

"Is that so?" The door shut behind him by an absent gust of wind as he shifted into a slow gait around the room, stopping within a glide apart. "Do you so ardently believe that I could have no comprehension of the type of woman you are? Are you so keen to judge a character that even now is a living mystery to you?" he laughed bitterly. "I beg to differ. You spent your life being trained into the destiny that you had no say in. Believe me, _meu dulciuri_, never question that fact—it was what held reign over every waking moment of my mortal life.

"And with that misfortune you were born with, it seemed that your literary education sprouted by nightly readings in the candlelight; an act strictly forbidden to your typical working class. You ran off as a child, holding that one hope to be normal while the other children of the village were forever average. Instead they kept you confined to your room throughout your childhood, terrified of the reality that your powers could spiral out of control if tempered. They tried to control you, to chain you from the outside. The line between being a child and a woman separated that control holding sway over your mind." I plainly stood there and watched on, the story without its solid details falling out of the mouth of a man I barely knew. His satisfied, coy smile threw me into an uncomfortable situation of backing away. My head shook unknowingly in equal time of my slackening mouth.

"And though it's possible for an Elemental to remain virginal, as that is what her Creator would favor in his guardians, he knows as well as the devil that earthly creatures with a nature as fiery as yours can't hold tensions long. You look nothing like a virgin, and act nothing like one as well. A man's warmth is common to you, and your family is ashamed of it. They curse the person you have become—"

"Stop! Stop this banter!" I snapped. Effortlessly shielding my face and tears from his watchful eyes with my hand, I turned past his towering place beside me and slumped into a chair lying next to a paper-strewn desk.

"Have I completely missed the details of your life?" Dracula clipped in a snide manner. "Or did your ignorant assumptions cause me to hit a mark?"

"Leave me." I whispered, my hand motioning towards my mouth to suppress an embarrassed sob.

"As you wish, _mea doamna_." The door opened and shut simultaneously behind me, flustering all feelings at the ugly truth staring me in the face. My head slammed against the surface of the desk, throwing up a shroud of dust in the air on impact. Nothing could be hidden from the damned Count. Nothing. Not even romantic affairs.


	10. Inner Whore

_My only excuses on not updating since summer is simply summer, college, school, and utter laziness. I am not here to gain fame or boost the ego I'm afraid I lack in certain areas of my persona, I am simply here because I want to improve as a writer. I am here to express my passion, my love, and my life of writing. Reviews have not been about renown fame for me, either. To me, reviews help me improve, they fill me with encouragment, and they brighten my day. Just one kind review providing criticism and approval brightens my day. I have lacked the inspiration to write this story as of late, because I started this fiction two years ago in a period of writing where I wasn't in my prime. I have gone back to fix my outdated chapters the best I can, and I am trying to pick up the pace with my newer ones. I only ask for your criticism and personal thoughts on what I write, even if it is just a thank you for updating. I want to thank everyone who has revisited this story when I've barely updated, when it was at its lowest points--you're all the best :)_

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Despite my desire to ignore all orders of the Count, especially those set in place for the conservation of my life; I remained at an irresolute station by staying in my room. Dr. Frankenstein's chambers had more than several fascinating secrets left to discover with Dracula's absence. It seemed the doctor himself left the room chaotic with papers scattering the dirty floor, books on medical practices left open, pages torn and placed back in as if he were searching for one specific answer that remained untraceable. I found I was second to the Count to have stepped into his private sanctuary after his anonymous passing, and I made sure I took this secluded time to my advantage. I spent hours shuffling through his studies, the educated wits about me attempting to soak in what my eyes quickly scanned. My mind took me back to the night when the village laid vacant—the glowing trail of men's torches illuminating an invisible pathway to Castle Frankenstein. The gravedigger's laboratory lit with every lightening bolt parting the menacing sky, setting the earth afire and filling its occupants full of fright and wonder. A monster's life had been born and extinguished altogether that night, and suspicions led the town to believe that Dracula assisted in bringing a soul into the world without God's permission. I held those suspicions as facts while overlooking the lost research.

Aged papers sprawled across the bed linens and the surface of the desk spread the diagrams of a machine. There were journal entries; some of the script unreadable by the weathering of water marks, while some had been ripped out and folded numerously. But a few sentences concerning his creation and the involvement of Dracula himself confirmed the truth I had voraciously searched for. The creature was meant for Dr. Frankenstein's satisfaction of creating life himself, but unknowingly, this success held hope for Dracula's unborn children. Everything fit, then. The consistent failures Verona spoke ceaselessly of, and how the second-long whisper of my possible aid to the Count came into play. I would bring a superfluous time length to find the solution, carrying out minor plots and strategies fruitless to a vampire's effort. Lowering the papers to their resting place, I slapped my palm against my face in frustration. This rendered me helpless: the precious time I needed to discover the plans my god had in store for me is now being spent on helping the Son of the Devil's wishes. This realization burdened my mind as the days of my captivity passed. Perhaps my creator had intended this to happen. Perhaps it was I to assist the Valerious family in destroying Dracula. Ideas swam in a panic through my mind; I couldn't pinpoint the simple from the complex.

Even if I could somehow ruminate over a possible freedom without having to serve one of the darkest creatures that mistakenly came into existence, that reality wouldn't sustain as long as Dracula lived. But he had been generous, gentlemanly, even, in the time frame of our impartial communication towards one another. I had the opportunity to leave his castle to enter my own environment of content nature, as long as I fulfilled a fair bargain in retrieving the leader of the family I despised. Everything had thrown me into a state of confusion, and maybe I was intended to feel this way.

Maybe falling into his trap and enduring an entirely unfamiliar mix of unsolved riddles to this life I lived is the path I had been set on all along. Time is now my only outlet of what is meant to be and not to be, and I continued to wait impatiently for my answers. The day passed in a blur of papers and light-reading. There were times where I'd stretch out in finality across the unmade bed, too tired to care of the dust and debris covering my dress, too uninterested in the dryness of the mathematical diagrams to put any effort into my personal entertainment anymore. Sometimes the compulsion to fling open the door and exit the room was appealing, even if the Count had been correct in my imminent death. And most regrettably, my imaginings had jumped ahead of themselves too soon to fathom the animals waiting outside.

Wind became absent as the growling and pawing thuds passing by the door shook my body into tremors, and soon it left me in a breathless silence. They never left, acting as personal guards, torn between thirsts for pulsating blood and holding true to their master's commands. Escaping was the last word I could have imagined. I waited for the unseen sunlight to fade, for the hoarse breathing to stop, for the thundering presences of inhuman animals to come to an end, and they only did when something darker took their place.

He entered without knocking, but it was something I expected. I was, in spite of everything prominent in physical shape and passionate thought, only a girl in his eyes, and I acted like one for that matter.

"I see you've finally taken a bed for comfort instead of the floor." He chuckled.

"I see you take an interest in being bothersome when I'm in dire need of peace," I replied back, not bothering to lift my head from the soft comfort of the dusty sheets to stare at his implacable face.

"You had your peace today. I've been more than generous to you so your task will be less tiresome. Boris's departure is tonight, and time is running short. His guards are equally made up of six men and six women. Your decision on which woman's form you will take has to be quick and convenient. The body you will have taken shape of must be concealed from the village for your own security, and for the sake of this task to become successful." His eyes suddenly narrowed at me, cold and calculating as I lifted myself off the bed, adjusting my bodice and skirt appropriately.

"I'm sure I can figure something out." I couldn't look him in the eye. He knew I had skimmed over Dr. Frankenstein's research, and he knew that my learned knowledge of his purpose affected my better sense of judgment on whether I followed his wishes or not. It came time to leave, and he didn't have that slim opportunity to corner me with threats and temptations. All he had were his brides to verify my loyalty, and even they couldn't watch me while the daylight beams warmed my shoulders. I had been more than ready to leave his fortress behind, and as soon as the sun withdrew its light from the world, he brought me to the edge of the forest outside the circle of the village.

"Marishka will arrive not long after Boris stops his travels for the evening. Give her as much information you can retain, any news or future destinations planned." Dracula turned his back to me, resigned with all he had said as he walked into the darkness of the woods. "By the way," he looked briefly over his shoulder, trying my patience with his slow departure, "make sure your selective temper is kept under control. We don't want to alert the Valerious' sentry of their shape-shifting intruder. I want his capture unexpected and nearly invisible to any human's eyes but your own. Do not fail me."

And then I was alone. I made it my responsibility to not waste any time seeking out the guardians of the Valerious household. Their manor lay on the outskirts of the village near the stables, and I had little time to spare. If I made one wrong move, the townsfolk would recognize my face. Knowing it was impossible to travel undetected on the streets, I took the detoured pathway under the shadows of the trees towards the manor. The sentry was recognizable by their matching attire as they swarmed the Valerious' stables for horses and traveling supplies. For awhile, I feared I wouldn't find a lone woman walking away from the group. But, soon, the group began to split off, the women breaking away into random directions whilst the men watched over the carriage stationed in front of the stables. One of the women walked around to the back of the manor in search of the kitchens to retrieve the food supply.

I took this as the opportunity. She was of a tall, well-balanced stature. The way she walked with her hand set on the hilt of her blade told me of the extensive training undergone to be privileged with the duty as a guard. Rendering her unconscious became even more of a challenge than I originally thought. It took several attempts of knocking her out with the overpowering force of fire to keep her down. Physical combat held for awhile, but I hadn't a chance of overpowering a woman with a weapon. Once I knew she remained unconscious, I placed a palm upon her forehead and laid the other at her the base of her stomach. Shape shifting had painful effects on the shifter after the transformation, leaving them with a severe lack of energy and strength to uphold the body little more than an hour. I had only shape shifted once before, and I hoped my experience with the previous body made me stronger for this metamorphosis.

The moment I willed the change, I felt an instant break in my bones, the pain coursing through my body until it shook me into startling tremors. It took every ounce of will I had to keep myself from sobbing as the bones in my legs snapped and stretched to a longer length, but the transformation in my face was by far the worst of the change. The groaning of my jaw and cheekbones moving had me burying my face in the earth to cease the agony. Just when I thought the gravitation of my ribcage was enough I could handle, I felt the alteration of my skin begin. My fingernails shortened, the skin of my hands roughening into a calloused, leathery texture. The wild disarray of my hair shortened into a shoulder-length, dull black as my skin sucked away the golden shine of its color, replacing it with paleness similar to Dracula's skin. Then, in the midst of my pain, every ounce of it stopped. My irregular breathing slowed to a steady rhythm with my heart as I rose to my full height with shaking legs. I had to be quick now—the clothes would have to be exchanged, the woman must be tied up and placed out of human sight. As long as I sustained her body in both shape and form, her unconscious state would remain.

It took me another several minutes to accomplish this before I could complete her task to retrieve food supplies and transfer what I had packed into her personal bags and return to the carriage.

"Estellia! What took you so long? Did you get the supplies?" I looked directly at the man, unaware that the woman's name was mine until he walked towards me with a stack of blankets and a saddle. He exchanged a saddle with the large pack of food, emptying the entire weight into my arms. "It's going to be a long journey, saddle up the horse well. There may be some nights where we won't stop for rest."

All I could manage was a curt nod before I walked off to conform to the rest of the sentry. By observing their interactions I soon learned the majority of the sentry's names. I had been heartily slapped on the back numerous times in excitement, asked if I had all that I needed for the journey, if I, too, enjoyed the thrill of entering the dark forests of Romania when traveling. Several of the men spoke of their desire to kill some of the werewolves set loose in the woods by Dracula. I listened with feigned interest as I tried my best to adjust to their behaviors and attitudes, but the growing aftereffects of taking the form of another wore me down. It seemed forever until Boris emerged from his manor and stepped, with insistent protest, into the carriage. Boris had a handsome, rugged visage about him, an air of haunted mystery and welcoming comfort to all that surrounded him. He didn't like to be cared for by any of the watchmen, and this was evident when he claimed riding horseback would prove safer than the distraction of the carriage. His men and women had no choice but to comply with Boris's wishes, and we left the carriage behind as he joined us on saddle.

The remaining hours of daylight passed by in a silent blur. Boris Valerious would occasionally address one of the guards, an interrogation or order here and there, and then the silence would reign once again. I assumed the minimal talk was an avoidance tactic to draw less attention to such a large party of humans. Dracula's warnings of the many mythical creatures hidden in the forests troubled my thoughts, forcing my head to dart left and right almost every second we rode deeper into the thickets of trees. A fire wasn't lit until we stopped many hours later to rest. Some meats were roasted over the flames, bread and wine were passed around, and before long all of us were huddled around the light in jocund laughter.

"-and I sliced it clear off its body! I've never managed to make such an exact cut in my life! Let us just admit that Dracula is two wolves short now," one of the men, Aurel, exclaimed. He threw his head back and let out a hoot, nudging me in the shoulder with his elbow. "Estellia, don't you remember that day? We took them down like cattle! I've never seen such a good shot in my life made by a woman!"

I grinned into the light of the fire, the alcohol in my system giving me a renewed confidence and vigor that urged me to play along with Aurel's victory tale. "Yes," I began. "I believe Dracula and his brides took two times the people from our village that week, but it was a well-earned victory for the both of us," I smirked.

"Wasn't that the week when the execution of that woman occurred?" Ion mentioned. The atmosphere around the dissipating fire turned grave. "I was traveling to Varna at the time, but I received news from Velkan not long after I arrived in Bulgaria."

"Wasn't she a witch?" I remarked, hand gripping the blankets underneath me to keep the controlled façade I promised the Count.

"She was not a witch," Boris interjected. "That woman was part of an ancient spiritual race nearly untraceable in our world. I, too, was away at the time when Anna initiated the execution against my orders." He stared into the fire intently, his gaze fixated on the flames as his hands tightened on the mug of ale he held. "She was said to be a guardian of God, bound to the earth to protect its lands. Many of these creatures born in this part of the world lived among the Carpathians, but it seemed that her parents refused to hole her up away from society. Her powers got the best of her as a child, and soon the villagers grew fearful of her."

"If she was a guardian of God, then why did the Lady Anna want her killed?" Lucia questioned. The conversation had sobered me by now, and I grew anxious to learn of Anna's reasoning behind such a cruel fate she had in store for me. Boris's face showed kindness, and this was reflected in his response to the guards that had dedicated their lives to protect their king and friend.

"My Anna has always been afraid of what she does not know. When I lost her mother to Dracula, Velkan did his best to protect his sister. He taught her to fear the creatures generations of our family had died fighting against. Anything that poses a threat to Anna's survival, in her eyes, must be eliminated, and this was the reason she wanted to take away the life of such a powerful creature. As we all know, death did not claim her that night. She's out there, somewhere, hopefully at peace with herself and the world alone." He had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he truly wished me internal peace and salvation. I impulsively blinked away any traces of tears in my eyes at that moment. No one spoke again after Boris's double defense on Anna's behalf and mine. The fire was extinguished as the sentry settled down for a light sleep. Stars became our only light against the black backdrop of the forest and sky—I became nervous for Marishka's arrival, wondering if she would ever come at all. Marishka would have been my only strength against an attacker nearby, and as the midnight hours dwindled onwards, my eyes started to gradually close.

A searing heat began to consume me as the darkness finally swallowed my consciousness whole. All I felt were hands sliding against my damp skin, the cool breath of a mouth kissing the swell of my breasts. They were greedy, needing, and rough as they handled my body, seducing me in a slumber that felt so real. Had the stars burned out during the night, shielding the face of my seducer in all his glory? Even though my eyes were blind to his movements, it took me only minutes to respond to the advances of my shadowed lover, embracing every one of his kisses until he claimed my mouth at last. I never paused to wonder if this was a dream, or if it had been true that the moon and stars took early rest in the sky tonight for the purpose of this mystifying encounter. What solely mattered to me was my hope that whoever gave me such a thrill of pleasure would never stop. He released my swollen lips and lowered himself to commence with sharp, teasing bites against the skin of my neck. I reached with wanton hands towards his hair, holding his head against my chest while releasing soft moans against the flashing surges of warmth spreading to every end of my body. His chest felt broad and heavily muscled against my smaller figure, his large hands caressing each curve he could lay a finger on, his hair falling soft against my neck like the finest of silks. He moved his mouth over my lips again, and I claimed the kiss before he could reach me, running my sensitive hands over the chiseled features of his face as if I could make a connection between the visage and the man.

I had never felt so alive in my life, lit from the inside and out, ready for the pleasure my dark lover was willing to give as a token of my submission. He reached for my wrists with alacrity, but I had already explored the beauty of his countenance through my sense of touch. His skin was smooth and flawless, a handsome similarity to his slightly aquiline, aristocratic nose sitting above his thin lips. The features of this man were handsome, but they seemed familiar. His kisses oozed perfection, an ecstasy that even I knew took years of experience to master—his hands were well-acquainted with the areas of a woman's body, knowing where to touch and when to touch her. I tried to move myself into any form of light brighter than darkness to unmask the lustful devil in disguise. A glowing invasion of two sapphires came into my blackened vision upon will, and then I froze. I felt the smile appear on his face, the knowing grin that he had deceived me coiling around my insides in the darkness. And just when his face was made known to me, I was being lightly shaken awake, even when the terrorizing paralysis of what I had just done hadn't eased off of my body.

"Autumn? Autumn, wake up," an impatient whisper cut through the silence of the night, my eyes snapping open at the piercing voice overrunning my senses. Sweat beads rolled off my body in waves as I searched for the face to the disembodied voice. The striking appearance of Marishka flooded my vision for a brief moment. She held a finger to her lips and beckoned me into the darker depths of the forest away from the slumbering sentry surrounding Boris. When we reached a safe enough distance, she turned to face me, inspecting my disheveled appearance with a scrutinizing eye.

"Care to explain?" she asked, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips.

I smoothed my hair down, rubbing away any traces of perspiration left from the dream I experienced—praying it was a dream, that is.

"I had a nightmare, nothing more, Marishka. How did you know it was me? I'm still one of the guards, aren't I?" I ran a quick check over the skin of my hands and the color of my hair to make sure I hadn't lost the shape of Estellia's body overnight.

"My master has the host's body you've taken the form of—I stole her away from the place you hid her so no harm could come to the body itself. I've been tracking your travels for quite awhile now. I had to report back on the group's progress a few hours ago before I could come into contact with you," she affirmed. "My master has informed me that the best way to cease suspicions of Boris's disappearance being traced to us is to capture him near the coast of the Black Sea, at least two days before he boards the ship. During the time in between now and then, it is expected of you to win Boris's trust. There is always that established trust between a guard and their commander, but not enough trust for the guard to lure the commander away from safety. Do this," Marishka implored, "and win his heart with sympathies, anything that develops a type of unrestrained faith between you and him. Now," she concluded. "Has your behavior looked a bit different to the other members of the sentry, suspicious? Have you fallen out of line?"

"No. I've done my best to become a part of them as fast as possible."

"Good. I believe my job is done. I'll leave you to your nightmares, or whatever you choose to call them," she laughed, jumping upwards through the canopies of the trees, the sound of wings flapping against the cool breeze that faded with distance. It was some time before I realized I had to return to the rest of the group. The dream's webs toyed with me as the night wore on—his hands, his lips, and simply his touch drove me into such a fit of madness. And it was _him_. Was Dracula consciously lurking in my dreams, luring me into a thread of seduction and false sense of security? Or was this a coincidence, a thought spawning from the lustful side of me I kept locked away?

None of the guards had awoken yet as the sun broke the edge of the horizon, and I became thankful that the night I watched over the group was a night without worries… to a certain extent. To my horror as I awaited the awakening of the group, I found my lips tingling and swollen, a telltale sign that I had truly been kissed amidst the darkness. I felt along my collarbone, my breathing picking up once my fingers ran over the elevated sections of skin pulsating in pain. Either I had been picking at my face and neck uneasily during my sleep, or what I experienced this passing evening was a true physical act of passion. The only way I could retrieve the answers I sought for was to face the Count himself, and search for them. I had a task at hand, a favor to fulfill, and I wasn't ready to stare at his implacable face any time soon.


End file.
